CHAPTER 4
She usually left out the front door since she parked her car in the driveway and not the garage like Larissa, but this time, Harlow decided not to go out the front and used the laundry room door into the garage, getting to her car that way instead.
It meant that she had to open and close the garage door, but she had the code to it, just like she had the house keys and knew the alarm code and Larissa’s phone passcode, too.
They knew practically everything about one another, and yet, they still didn’t seem to know much at all, which was always interesting to Harlow.
They’d met at a school event through Larissa’s sister, who was a few years older, but they hadn’t gotten to know one another until Larissa had ended up as her TA in a psychology class during the second semester of Harlow’s freshman year in college.
They’d been friends ever since, and while Harlow had always wanted more, Larissa had appeared oblivious and so focused on school that Harlow had never told her how she felt.
Of course, she had technically asked her out a few times initially, but Larissa probably hadn’t even noticed any of that because Harlow hadn’t exactly been obvious about it, especially the first two times.
“So, do you maybe want to do something later?” she’d asked the first time the day after she had finished classes and was no longer a student in Larissa’s section.
“Um… I was going to head out to get something to eat. Do you want to come with me? I can’t buy you a drink because I’m nineteen, but we could still have fun,” she’d said with a nervous laugh the second time.
“Larissa, do you want to go out with me?” she’d asked a third and final time about four months after they had met.
“What?” Larissa had replied then, looking up from her computer. “Sorry, I just got an email. I wasn’t paying attention.”
That attempt had happened when she had returned to school after the summer to find Larissa in the library, which had been Larissa’s home away from home back then.
Larissa had just started graduate school, and Harlow had known that the woman would be busy with studying and teaching, so she’d stopped asking her out after that.
Their friendship had been solidified, and after a year, she’d felt like she could finally put away her feelings.
She’d had dates and girlfriends ever since, but none of them had made her feel how Larissa always had, and she was beginning to wonder if they ever would.
It was true that the women Harlow had been with had always competed, in a way, with their years of friendship, and even in her most recent relationship, when she had thought she’d been in love, Harlow had known the whole time that if Larissa suddenly woke up and was interested in going on a date with her, she would’ve ended things with her girlfriend sooner.
While she wasn’t sure if that made her a bad person, it didn’t really make her a good one.
She deserved love, too, though, and there had been women who were interested in her and wanted to be with her over the years.
Larissa hadn’t been one of them, unfortunately, having never expressed anything more than friendship to her, so if Harlow didn’t give up on this sooner rather than later, she’d end up in yet another relationship where she would just compare her girlfriend to her best friend, which wasn’t fair to anyone.
She knew that, as much as she’d wanted to get out and have Larissa go with her, she also needed to have some time to herself, out of that house, to be able to think for a bit, so she pulled up to her favorite bar, which wasn’t one she had ever brought Larissa to just for that reason: to have her own space that wouldn’t have memories of her friend being there with her and Harlow having lusty feelings or even romantic, sweet feelings for her while she got tipsier and tipsier.
“Is this stool taken?” she asked a woman who had been facing away from her when she’d first walked up.
The woman turned around then, gave her a very obvious, long once-over, and offered Harlow a smirk in the end.
“Well, my night just got infinitely better. Hello. I’m Ashlee.”
The woman held out her hand for Harlow to shake.
“Oh, hi,” she said. “Harlow. I’m not your blind date, if that’s what–”
Ashlee laughed and replied, “No, I’m not waiting on a blind date.”
Harlow shook her hand and asked, “So, can I sit?”
Ashlee spun on her stool and replied, “Definitely. And Harlow? That’s a pretty name.”
“Thanks. I’ll tell my parents you think so,” she said and waved the bartender over.
“I was just here with a friend, but she met someone and took off, so I’m free,” Ashlee told her. “Are you waiting on anyone?”
“No,” she answered. “Just here for a drink.”
“Not for small talk or to pick up a woman?”
“I don’t mind the small talk, but I didn’t come here to pick anyone up, no.”
The bartender arrived in front of her and asked, “What can I get for you?”
“Just a beer. That dark on tap, please,” Harlow replied.
“Put it on my tab,” Ashlee added.
“That’s okay. You don’t–”
“Please, let me. It doesn’t come with any strings. It’s just a beer.”
“It’s your money,” Harlow replied.
“You’re really trying to give off the vibe that you don’t want to be flirted with, but I’m wondering if that’s an act and you’re playing hard to get, or if you’re with someone and not wanting to be tempted. So, which is it?”
“You are really forward, aren’t you?” Harlow said with a little laugh.
“And you’re really hot. Can you blame me for trying? I have a thing for a soft butch who drinks dark beer, and you fit the bill, Harlow.”
“Soft butch? Really?”
“Well, let’s see. Short hair that’s kind of tussled but not perfectly in place.
You’ve also got that soulful eye thing going for you.
Then, there’s the wardrobe, of course. You’re wearing a plaid shirt with some decent jeans that hug your ass but don’t necessarily show it off, and you’re rocking black Vans.
Nails are short and kept but not exactly neatly. ”
“And that makes me a soft butch?” Harlow asked just as her drink arrived.
“In my book, it does.”
“And you are?”
“Femme, obviously. Did you miss my heels?”
“I wouldn’t even know to pay attention to them,” she said and took a drink.
“So, you didn’t know that if you wanted to flirt with a femme, you could start by complimenting her very expensive shoes?” Ashlee chuckled.
“Nope. Didn’t know that. But I appreciate the lesson.”
“You’re really not interested, are you?”
“In what, exactly? Flirting with a femme?”
“Flirting with me. You don’t seem interested in flirting with me.”
“To what end?” Harlow asked.
“To the end where we’re in bed naked.”
“Oh. Then, no. I don’t want to do that.” Harlow shook her head but smiled at the woman to help lessen the blow. “Sorry.”
“Not your type?”
“No, it doesn’t have anything to do with that. I’m just not up for it tonight. I came for a drink and to think a little, not to pick up anyone.”
“And if I were here on another night and you weren’t here just for a drink and to do some thinking, would I have a chance?”
“For just sex?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t do that.”
“Okay. Then, a date?”
“Where there’s sex after I buy you dinner?”
“I can buy the dinner.”
“If I deliver on the sex?”
Ashlee laughed and said, “God, I like you. You just got hotter somehow.”
Harlow laughed, too, and replied, “I’m not interested in anything tonight. I don’t know about another night, but I don’t do the just-sex thing. So, if that’s what you’re into, I wish you luck, but it’s not gonna be with me.”
“Why not? Sex is fun. It can be really, really good. And it doesn’t have to come with a relationship attached to it.”
“I have more fun and better sex when it is,” she replied and took another drink of her beer.
“You and I are very different people,” Ashlee said. “My friend and I specifically came out here tonight hoping to find someone to take home. She got lucky. I’m still here.”
“Maybe I should take my drink to a booth or something so that you have a better chance. If women see you talking to me, they might get the wrong idea.”
“Actually, I think I’ll take off. There’s a club not all that far from here, where I might be able to find a nice soft butch to dance with me.”
“Clothes off or on?”
Ashlee stood, and as she dropped some bills on the bar, she said, “Hopefully, both. Enjoy your night, Harlow. I hope to see you here again soon.”
Then, Ashlee left, but Harlow didn’t really feel like being there anymore, either.
She finished her beer, tipped the bartender, even though Ashlee already had, and left as well.
Driving back to Larissa’s place, she felt worse off than before she had left, and when she arrived, she went in through the garage door again, kicked off her shoes by the washer and dryer, and opened the inner door.
“Hey, I’m home,” she said and realized right after that word had left her mouth that she wasn’t home.
She was just staying with Larissa again because she had moved in with someone and it hadn’t worked out. Again.
Larissa wasn’t on the couch or at the table, which was odd because it was only a little after eleven and she usually worked past midnight.
Harlow walked down the hall and saw that Larissa’s door was partially open.
She peered inside and saw her sleeping on her back, her closed eyes aimed up at the ceiling and one hand on her phone, with the other at her side.
She smiled, knowing that Larissa had probably fallen asleep reading something, but she didn’t want to wake her by putting her phone away, so she walked into the guest room and closed the door softly behind her.